Chapter Twenty-Five

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

DANI STOOD NEXT to the fire engine mentally preparing herself to do the most insane, most dangerous, most ill-advised thing she’d ever done.

It’s going to be fine. This is going to work.

Her heart pounding in her chest said otherwise.

“I thought you were afraid of heights,” Levon said, pulling the harness’s nylon strap taut.

Dani felt the harness cinch around her waist. “Probably not as much as Connor’s going to be,” she replied.

“He’s less than five minutes out” came Marion’s voice over the radio.

“Copy,” said Frankie. “Any last words of wisdom for your girl?”

The firefighters all looked at Dani, who waited to hear what her daddy had to say.

“She doesn’t need wisdom. She needs courage. And we wouldn’t be having this conversation if she didn’t already have it.”

There was a rustling sound and then a moment later, a sweet, high-pitched voice came on.

“Hi, Mommy!”

“Bri!” Dani said, taking a step toward the radio. “Hi, baby. You okay?”

“ Yup. Mommy, Granddaddy said we’d probably sleep here tonight. And there’s bunk beds. And remember Caycee Williams has bunk beds? But at her birthday party last year, when I slept over at her house? You said I had to sleep on the bottom in case I fell off. But I was five then, and I’m six now. So can I sleep on the top? I promise I won’t fall off.”

Dani’s chest ached. She wished time could just stop. Just always stay right here, right now. Being that oblivious to the true horrors of the world around her—Dani wanted that innocence for her baby forever. All children should feel safe enough with the adults blessed to protect them that amid a potential nuclear meltdown, their biggest concern would be which bunk they’d get to sleep in.

Dani swallowed against the lump in her throat. “Six is much older than five, you’re right. It’s okay with me if your granddaddy says it’s okay with him.”

Levon heard the crack in Dani’s voice she was trying so hard to hide and squeezed her shoulder. Mother and daughter said “I love you” and “Goodbye,” and with that, Dani turned and grabbed the megaphone before she could change her mind and headed down the embankment toward Connor, toward the bridge, toward the flames.

“All right, baby,” she said to Connor. “I’m coming for you. Now, you need to listen to what I say and do exactly what I tell you to do. I’m your Robin. You’re my Batman. I need you, okay? I don’t like heights. I’m going to need you to keep me calm, okay? I’m going to need you to hold on to me real tight so I don’t get scared. Can you do that?”

The boy nodded solemnly.

From around the corner came a deep rumble. Everyone turned as a massive, heavy-duty tow truck came around the bend, slowing to a stop with a high-pitched whine of the brakes. The driver’s door opened and R.J. hung out the side to get the lay of the land.

The fire truck had already been moved, so the firefighters had nothing to do but get out of the way and watch as R.J. threw his rig in reverse and three-point-turned the truck in a manner that not only drove it off the road but also knocked down a mile marker and a sign for the bridge.

With Frankie helping direct, R.J. reversed the truck the rest of the way, placing the back end as close to the bridge as possible. Frankie gave a final thumbs-up and R.J. put the truck in park. Leaning out the window, he looked at the firefighters and said, “Heard on the radio from Marion that y’all could use a lift.”

Moments later, the boom swung out perpendicular to the truck and continued over toward the embankment until it came to a stop, hanging out over the firefighters below. R.J. eased down the cable line and Levon reached up, waiting until he could grab the end. Taking the hook, he attached it to the front of Dani’s full-body harness and tugged repeatedly, moving it around in all directions to confirm the connection and stability. Satisfied Dani was secure, Levon stepped back, put his hands on his hips, and gave a nod.

Dani looked up and they both paused as if they’d just realized how dangerous this was. How insane this was. She could see it in his eyes, that unspoken Holy shit, and she could tell he saw it in her eyes too. But neither acknowledged it because there was no other way.

“Go get him,” Levon said finally.

Dani could only nod, too nervous to say anything.

She gave the thumbs-up. Levon gave the call to lift. And slowly, the cable began to rise.

Dani hung on as R.J. brought the boom vertical, her heart skipping a beat as her feet left the ground. Rising up, she clung to the cable, refusing to look down. She told herself to look at Connor. Focus on Connor. The boy watched with a slack jaw as she continued to rise up and up in the air, suspended by one little cable. The boy was in awe… or maybe it was terror. Dani couldn’t tell which.

R.J. made an adjustment, and suddenly the boom was moving out over the river and heading toward the van. Dani could feel the warmth of the fire even through her thick, protective turnout gear. The flames lashed out like an angry mob being held back, ready and waiting for their opportunity to take over, their moment to be unleashed.

“Left,” Levon shouted, and the boom adjusted. “More left.”

When the boom didn’t move, all the firefighters started yelling to move left.

“You’d think I’d found this truck by the side of the road,” R.J. hollered back, ignoring them. The boom extended and kept extending until it stopped with Dani positioned perfectly, right outside the open door, not needing to go left after all.

Thirty feet up in the air, Dani and Connor were now mere feet apart.

“Hiya, Batman,” Dani said, not having to yell. “I can fly.”

Levon jogged to the side to get a different perspective on Dani’s position. She was perfectly centered at the door, but there was still a large gap. He waved an arm toward the van. “Extend it,” he called out to R.J. “Give her about two feet.”

“That’s it,” R.J. hollered back. “That’s all the way out.”

Dani heard the exchange and stretched her arms out as far as she could, but the van was still well outside her reach. Clutching the cable again, she swore in her head but smiled at Connor as her suspended body swayed subtly in the wind, her feet dangling over the raging river below.

“Damn it,” Levon said, his fingers interlaced on top of his head. He looked from the truck to the bridge to Dani to the van to the truck, over and over, trying to figure out how to close the distance between her and the van, when suddenly there was a creaking noise by the bridge.

All the firefighters heard. And they knew all too well what that sound meant.

Dani’s arms shot out to Connor.

“It’s almost over,” she said, her voice more urgent. “It’s going to be okay. But I need you to walk slowly over to me and take my hands.”

Connor sat on the far side of the van with his knees to his chest and his arms wrapped around his legs. He didn’t move. He was terrified.

Dani studied the scenario. If he stood at the edge and reached out, and if she reached out and leaned in… it might be just enough to close the gap. They could do it. She knew it in her bones.

“C’mon, baby. You and me,” she said. “We’re getting out of here together.”

But Connor refused to budge.

She could see it in his eyes: The thirty-foot drop. The ice-cold water below when he couldn’t swim. The fireball that engulfed him the last time he went near that opening. His dead mother and father, right in front of him. His dead sister, right behind him. Connor was shaking now, the fear coursing through him. The child had seen more horrors in several hours than most people would in their entire lives. He was petrified by trauma, entirely unequipped to handle the moment; what young child would be? Dani knew there was no chance she would be able to get him to come to her.

Which meant she would have to go to him.